


A Classy Start

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [227]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 15:11:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4710500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first day of classes comes too soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Classy Start

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For  
> My beta team: Emila-Wan and Carol  
> Mali Wane for posting to the Master Apprentice ML  
> Travis for posting to the Master Apprentice Archive on AO3  
> Alex for inspiring Arcadia 
> 
> References:  
> [The Ambassadors - Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Ambassadors)  
> [The Ambassadors (Second Edition) (Norton Critical Editions)](http://www.amazon.com/Ambassadors-Second-Edition-Critical-Editions/dp/0393963144)  
> [Dinner and a Movie](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1416964)  
> [Classy](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2272755)
> 
> To Inya

Quinn just barely prevented himself from slamming the door behind him.

He had narrowly escaped the hullabaloo in the hallway of their second-floor office. It was the first day of classes, and he felt under siege. He shuddered when he imagined what the secretaries were going through in the English Department office on the first floor. Case had probably barricaded himself in his inner sanctum by now.

Was it just two weeks ago that he and Ian had met their parents here for a carefree night at the theater? The whole mellow vibe of summer vacation had already evaporated as if it had never existed. Replaced by a frenetic drive to get things done _now_.

But at least summertime had soaked sunshine and relaxation into their bones, giving them vital reserves for dealing with the commotion right outside their door. Quinn looked down and saw his tanned arms, a delightful reminder of lazy summer afternoons just past. One of his gripes was that he felt cheated of an entire week of vacation.

It was Tuesday, September 1st, so the semester had started early this year. Ordinarily, classes began the day after Labor Day, but since the holiday fell later than usual this time, the Luke administration had decided to start the semester almost a week ahead of schedule. This also meant that there would be a disruption next week, what with no classes on Monday again.

His lecture on one of Henry James' later novels, "The Ambassadors," had gone well; the wedding of language and diplomacy was something of a specialty of Quinn's, an art form he had mastered. He dropped his briefcase and the Norton Critical Edition on the desk; it was already dog-eared and additionally annotated by his own hand. Luckily, the first office hours he would hold were not until Thursday; that would give everyone a chance to settle down before he held them.

He hung up his jacket and undid the second button on his cream-colored shirt. Raising his arms up to a few feet from the ceiling, he did a few stretches to loosen up and felt a draft on his stomach when his shirt came loose from his slacks. He thought of a couple of ideas for his next lecture on Thursday, while continuing his exercise. When he finished, he remembered to tuck his shirt in again, in case a student came to the door. Or in case his lad got any ideas.

Quinn had no idea when Ian would be able to make it to their office. Ian's class at Wookley Center had been over for at least an hour, but students were probably mobbing him afterwards, especially if the room was empty for the next period.

Even in his own sanctum sanctorum, Quinn could tell that summer vacation was as distant as Brigadoon already. When he looked out the window, he saw students milling about the quad, some confusedly trying to find classrooms, some looking for the student center, some hoping to locate the dining hall for undergraduates.

Quinn spotted his husband instantly, despite the press of people surrounding him. He was striding through it all without a care in the galaxy, his head cocked upward, since his Jedi telepathy must have whispered to Ian that his herven was gazing at him. He waved at his lad and smiled at him when he waved back with a jaunty flourish.

He knew Ian would take longer than usual to make it upstairs because of the blockade on the first floor. Fancifully, Quinn compared it to the blockade of Naboo by the Trade Federation, and chuckled at his analogy. He had a hunch that Case would bristle at any comparison to the Neimoidians. Quinn also had a gut feeling Ian would choose the side door, in order to bypass much of the chaos downstairs. In less time than he had thought, however, the welcome sound of a key in the door made Quinn smile again.

"Hey, handsome," Ian said as he locked the door.

Quinn walked over to meet him. "Hello, laddie mine."

"The kids haven't found out about the side door yet." Ian gave him a crooked grin.

"Just what I was thinking," said Quinn, another small instance of Jedi telepathy at play. He gave Ian an office hug. "How are you holding up?"

"Just your typical opening day." Ian grinned when his husband took his briefcase from him and put it on his desk. "A regular riot," he said, a nod to one of their favorite comedians, Jackie Gleason.

Quinn grinned back, delighted by his laddie's resilience, especially on the hardest day of the whole year. By contrast, the first day of the spring semester was a walk in the park, because enrollment traditionally dropped off by at least 25% in January.

Quinn kept his arms loosely around Ian's shoulders. "How did your lecture on Wordsworth go over?"

"Well," Ian drawled, "the kids certainly got their words' worth from it."

Groaning obligingly, Quinn said, "Now I know that the semester has officially begun. You've made your first atrocious pun of the school year." He winked at Ian, crinkles at full play. "We wouldn't be off to a proper start without it."

Ian winked back. "Exactly! Gotta uphold Luke tradition." He cuddled into Quinn's arms and stole a kiss while he was in mid-burrow. "How was your 'Ambassadorial' lecture?"

Quinn couldn't resist kissing him back, even during the worst workday of the entire year. And the kiss was well worth it, for both of them. Quinn finally got around to answering the question, although now he had a sheen of Ian's saliva on his lips and a delighted expression on his face. "The kids need to brush up on their foreign relations." He chuckled. "I may need diplomatic immunity after the midterm exam."

"And you say my puns are the worst. I don't know about that," said Ian with a smile, his Quinn-tousled hair making him look like he did when he'd gotten out of bed this morning.

"But I do, my lad," Quinn rumbled. His stomach chose that moment to rumble in punctuation, as well.

"How 'bout going to the Faculty Club for lunch?" Ian asked.

"Ah, good idea, Ian. 'Twill be just like an oasis on Tatooine this afternoon," Quinn said.

Ian looked at his watch. "Especially since it's already two o'clock."

Quinn snorted out a laugh. "Too bad we don't have a cantina on campus."

Ian chortled. "Yeah, the nearest Marita's is over twenty miles away."

"Good thing I'm not craving guacamole today, then." Quinn got his jacket from the peg.

When they left the office, they stopped by the men's restroom down the hall. Even that was overcrowded today. Then they threaded their way through students along the second-floor corridor, then headed straight for the stairwell to the side door of Taton Hall. Turning away from the quad, they used the path by the lake, which was less crowded because it was further from the maze of buildings. The day couldn't have been better for a walk, what with temperatures in the 70s, puffed-marshmallow clouds, and a fresh breeze.

The Faculty Club itself was across from the Conference Center, well away from the hubbub on the main campus. It was constructed of fieldstone, just like Taton Hall, and had a charming main dining room with cherrywood tables and plush chairs. The club specialized in English pub food, which Ian and Quinn adored. The walls were painted in cream and brown, with the furniture resting atop a polished hardwood floor. The place was decorated with Luke memorabilia -- paintings of old landmarks, Skyhawks banners, and photographs of famous alumni.

They'd arrived after the lunch rush, so they went straight to their favorite table by a window with a spruce tree right outside. They waved to some of their friends from the Math Department, who were seated across the restaurant. Then Case, Ethan, and Evan passed them with waves and words of advice about the daily specials as they made their way out. Of course, Case couldn't resist leaving a couple of folders on their table, which might as well have had 'Some Kind of Grunt Work' printed on them for classification.

In spite of the sneaky way Case had perfected of giving them additional work, Quinn gave an inward sigh of relief, which he could swear Ian heard, as well. Both of them knew that they had just avoided a perforce business lunch by the hair of a Wookiee. Now the club would be the oasis on Tatooine that Quinn had hoped for.

There were many new employees, who'd started working with the semester, so they didn't recognize their waiter. He brought them water and their menus, then left them to decide on their meal. Both men wanted the bangers and mash, but Ian wisely decided on fish and chips instead, to spare Quinn the temptation while he ate. Unsurprisingly, Quinn knew the reason Ian had changed his mind and gave him a pat on the hand to show his gratitude.

Somehow, Quinn was able to get through his meal in a methodical way, no matter what he was eating. However, sausages were a challenge for Ian to eat without becoming unintentionally provocative, even after all of these years. Quinn privately thought that this was a good thing.

The waiter was blessedly none the wiser about Ian's decision to change his entree when he took their order. And Quinn felt as if he'd gotten a reprieve. They settled back in their cushioned chairs while they waited for their food, ready for their first relaxing conversation of the day.

"I'm in the mood for all things Star Wars this fall," Quinn said.

"Me, too," Ian answered. "And Lelia has already asked me for a BB-8 toy for Christmas."

Quinn said, "As soon as she saw the trailer, Lelia told me that she thought BB was adorable. I'll bet when you gave her your model of R2-D2, you didn't know he was going to be jealous of a newer model."

"Don't worry," said Ian confidently. "Our whole family will always love R2. It's hard-wired and encoded in our very genes." He snorfled. "Besides, she has plenty of room for all of her toys in the new toybox you built her."

"We're lucky she's still interested in toys. She and Han are growing up so fast." Quinn took a sip of water.

"Well, we're living proof that you're never too old for Star Wars," Ian said.

Quinn nodded. "'The Colony' theater downtown is going to have a Star Wars festival, starting in November."

"Oh, yeah. I saw the poster. We've got to take Lelia and Han." Ian crunched on an ice cube. "They're showing all six movies for a week apiece, then 'The Force Awakens' on the 18th of December."

"I miss the premieres in May," Quinn said wistfully.

Ian nodded. "Know what you mean. But the movie will make a fantastic Christmas present."

"Now that both 'The Hobbit' and 'Lord of the Rings' series are finished," Quinn said, "we need a great film to take their place in December."

The waiter came over with their meal, and they concentrated on their food for the next little while.

Ian said, "Can't wait to see 'The Phantom Menace' again."

Quinn gave him a private smile. "I'll never forget that we saw it on our first proper date, Ian. What a sweet memory!"

"And that's so fitting, because each time I watch it again, I grow more and more convinced Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were in love." Ian sighed and dipped a chip in ketchup.

"It's so easy to see with our Jedi telepathy," said Quinn drolly.

"The way they look at each other sometimes," Ian whispered, "I forget everything else on the screen."

Quinn gazed at his herven for a long moment. "I can see how that could happen, now, my lad."

"So can I, my gradh," Ian said, returning Quinn's look with interest.

When Quinn matter-of-factly ate the last bite of banger, and Ian crunched the remaining crumbs of batter, they sat back and smiled at each other.

Quinn raised his glass to clink it with Ian's. "To a wonderful school year ahead of us!"

Ian echoed his words with an anticipatory glint in his eyes. He looked forward to every second of it, with his husband by his side.


End file.
